Dead Hope
by bobcorby
Summary: Jack and Cheng in China, with reference Jack's father. PLEASE REVIEW!
1. Chapter 1

Footsteps. Soft at first, a distant echo along the long corridors of the concrete maze which steadily grew closer. And louder. Through the darkness Jack could see the silhouette of the guard through the grate in the door to his cell. He watched as the mans posture changed, no longer slouching against the door, instead he stood straight, alert. Jack closed his eyes as the sound of scuffed shoes mixed with the heavy dull thud of steel capped boots. He shifted slightly against the cold floor, knowing, like his guard, that his captors were coming, for him. Cheng and soldiers, he assumed, by the pattern of the sounds, but unlike the uniformed man standing guard, keeping him prisoner, the gentle shift was all he could manage before pain rattled through his broken body, forcing him to lie still. Mentally, he fights back, but physically, all is lost.

It seemed as though Cheng had a fast forward button, for without warning the cell door screeched open and two burly men in camouflages overalls and hats pulled at him, twisting him onto his back and holding him still. A flash lit the room but Jack couldn't appreciate the stream of light that quickly bounced around the room from the camera as the bright explosion sent a burning stream of pain through his swollen irises and he squeezed his eyes shut tightly, confused as the men suddenly dropped him back onto the floor, allowing him to curl back into the granite. They weren't moving him from the room - they aren't taking him for interrogation. Why?

The change in routine scared Jack, for it was the one thing he could rely on, the one real thing he could focus on - but now it was changing. The soldiers were gone, their heavy boots seeming farther and farther away, and yet … no rumble through the floor to signify the closure of the cell door. For a moment Jack thought of escape but as he shifted on the floor he realised he wasn't alone. Cheng. The man smiled gleefully at him and Jack tried not to look too curious, or scared by the change of what he has grown accustomed to. Jack squinted, and his gut twisted as he realises that the object Cheng holds is a camera. His thoughts spring frantically through images of government ransoms, Audrey, Chloe, Kim and even release, freedom.

He knows his spirit is weakening and quickly forces the thought of freedom from his mind. Hope still leaks in, like a draft through a bolted door, hope is a spark he can't quite extinguish. Until Cheng speaks.

"Mr Bauer will appreciate this photograph."

Confusion danced across his face as Jack tried to find the pieces of the riddle he was sure Cheng had thrown him.

"Philip," Cheng continued, and dread suddenly crept through Jack's consciousness. His father? Did he know of his imprisonment? Again the candle illuminating forbidden thoughts of freedom was lit but with them Jack felt anger. He didn't want his father to pay Cheng off, he would rather die in China than give his father the satisfaction of knowing he had failed.

"He was concerned, when we last spoke, of your condition."

Jack opened his eyes and stared up at Cheng, silently willing him to continue, the lack of knowledge regarding his father made his body tense far more than the anticipation of any torturous interrogation ever had.

"Given the duration of your stay, he thought I may have killed you, Jack."

As always, Jack felt the involuntary flinch shudder through his body as Cheng spoke his name.

"But I reassured him you were still alive, and would remain so, until you part with the information we require."

Jack stared at him dumbly - was his father involved in his capture? The idea seemed so preposterous, and yet at the same idea, Jack knew it wasn't impossible. If Philip could benefit, through money or power, he cared little for those who suffered. Even his own son?, Jack wondered, then grimaced, he had been disowned from his father many years ago - like he would care.

"You see Jack, Mr Bauer wants the same information I want, for we are working towards the same goal. We are, you could say," he paused to crouch down towards Jack, enjoying the pain, confusion and anger which all fought for dominance of his face, "business partners."

Jack fought the fear Cheng's presence inspired and internalised it, instead focussing on his anger, anger at Philip for his lack of morals, angry at himself for once again being under his power, his control. Of course, there was no reason to believe Cheng was telling the truth. This could be another mind game, designed to chip another piece of his mental resistance away. Jack grimly realised it was working. Cheng was anticipating some reaction, and Jack gave him one. Slowly, ignoring the pain in his gums and cracked lips, he smiled, and Cheng backed away slightly as he saw the dried blood around the prisoners mouth crumble slightly from the strain.

Retorts, abuse and sarcastic comments rumbled around Jack's mind, but he refused to voice them, knowing he had to stay silent, had to stay strong in order to keep going. The thoughts of his father and a possible betrayal spurred his mind towards Nina, and not for the first time during his capture, anger surged through him. Cheng had said nothing, and with a slight glare at him, Jack slowly struggled over onto his other side, his back to Cheng. He grunted as he moved, almost wanting to receive punishment for his disobedience. Pain would help channel his anger, but instead, Cheng quickly left the room. As the steel door was once more closed, Jack blinked in the darkness, knowing that Cheng's words, whether true or false, had backfired. It hadn't weakened Jack, it didn't upset him, it made him angry and gave him strength. Cheng had made a mistake, Jack realised, for they wouldn't break him this way, emotionally, with regards to Philip, he was already dead.


	2. Chapter 2

Drugs. It had to be drugs.

Jack tried to open his eyes but had to squint against the bright light. He could make out a tall figure hovering over him and quickly clamped his lids shut from both pain and the vision he saw. He rolled his head weakly from side to side against the pillow which was damp from his sweaty hair and tried to compile some memory or recollection of what had happened since Cheng had taken the photo of him.

No images came forward, cementing his assumption that he had been drugged. But why did he have a pillow, and why was the room bright? He hadn't been taken from the dark dingy environment in which Cheng had imprisoned him before - why move him now?

Sensing movement behind him, Jack tensed, wondering who it was that was watching him. Was it Cheng ready to interrogate him or a guard on duty? He tried to move but felt his arms held firm with restraints. As he tugged he felt a pinch in his arm and squinted again against the bright light to check his assessment - a drip.

They were drugging him through a drip. Was Cheng waiting for him to come round before questioning him again, hoping to find him physically weaker as a result of long term drug dosages? But why had they moved him? The surface he laid on felt soft, almost warm - was it a bed? He closed his eyes again and welcomed the darkness as the ache from the swelling that remained from the last beating intensified. Trying not to make a sound he gritted his teeth against the pain, and realised that Cheng was trying to soften him up with bed and a pillow and warmth.

Why retreat back to chemical interrogation? The question swam around the empty blackness that filled his mind - that he had made fill his mind - to hide all other information - and confused him. Early in his imprisonment Cheng had used a strict regime of drugs and had failed. Was he hoping the few comforts would soften his prey up, make him let his guard down and allow the drugs to take control? Maybe, Jack wondered, this was a last ditch effort to break him - maybe they were out of ideas, or time, or maybe-

"Jack?"

Jack froze, suddenly aware that the void of silence had been disrupted, somebody was speaking to him - but he couldn't make out the individual words. He tried to concentrate and only then felt the way his chest was heaving in and out from the stress of his thoughts. He rolled his head from side to side again as he tried to calm himself and felt driblets of sweat roll over his chin. Christ, if this was what Cheng had been hoping for, it had worked, he had lost control over himself.

Something brushed against his head and Jack jolted back as far as the cuffs holding his wrists to the bed railings would allow. Fear now engulfed him, encouraged by the unknown figures contact with him. Now blinking, he forced his eyes to stay open despite the stinging sensation which made them water, knowing he had to see where he was to better prepare himself against the next battle he was to endure. Not fight - he was past fighting - but he could still hold out. As long as he held on, he hadn't failed. As long as he didn't give in, silence, although weaker than resistance, was stronger than passivity and he had to stay strong.

Jack stared at the figure now seated besides him and felt the warmth of his body turn suddenly cold. The man's hand reached out again to brush his matted hair away from his face and this time Jack held still as he did so, staring up at the man through half swollen eyes, unsure if what he was seeing was reality or a drug induced illusion.

"Dad?" He hadn't spoken in months, he was surprised that he didn't feel the need to say anything other than that single utterance.

Phillip nodded and smiled slightly. "I know I'm the last person you want to see right now, but I had to be the one to get you out."

Jack stared at him sceptically, Cheng's last remembered words spinning through his mind. 'Business partners.' Was that a ploy by Cheng to make him resist his father when he was released? Or was it a double bluff, designed to make him break?

"You're in the prison hospital," Phillip said, and for the first time Jack allowed his vision to drift to the room that held him. Four walls, a bolted heavy door, a light, barred window and minimal medical equipment. He was still in China.

"The doctor said you would need to spend a few days on antibiotics before you can be released from his care. There are also a few issues that need to be resolved, but I will be taking you home." His voice was void of emotion other than the tiredness which was evident through the bags under his eyes and seemed to express itself in its softly spoken voice. Jack would have mistrusted him if he sounded emotional - Philip Bauer didn't get upset.

"I know you're probably confused," he said, and paused as a sudden rattle indicated the door was being unbolted. A doctor let himself into the room and began to fiddle with the drip bag without speaking a word to patent or visitor. "I told them you wouldn't want me here, and in all honesty it was an inconvenience for me too, but your friends pushed Washington and they pressured me into coming. Said only I could go."

Jack's eyes began to close despite his urge to keep them open and he realised the doctor had added something to make him sleepy. Was it to help him rest and recover, or was this all some elaborate ploy? Was this even his father, or some crazy dream?

"I'll be back in a little while Jack," Phillip said, "I have full access to you." Jack nodded and watched as his father left the room without a backwards glance or a goodbye. Although he was certain he couldn't trust his judgement, whoever or whatever he had just seen certainly acted like Phillip.


	3. Chapter 3

Was it hours, or days, before Philip was back? Time seemed almost fixed, but the interrogations had stopped - the torture had stopped - he was grateful for that. Although confused by what he thought was his father's presence, Jack decided it best to be open minded yet cautious, and thankful for the reprieve; whilst confined to his bed, he felt rested, though still physically weak. Mentally, he was still confused, untrusting, and frustrated. He wanted answers.

When Philip pushed through the door unaccompanied Jack felt his stomach flitter and didn't know whether it was with hope or despair. Philip studied him a moment before sitting on a wooden stool which had been placed next to the bed. Finally meeting Jack's eyes he cleared his throat before speaking.

"I'm not going to waste time with pleasantries. You don't look well but we can fix that when you arrive home. I'm not going to ask about how you feel, or what you've been through, because I can see for myself the mess they have made of you. It may seem cold, but I'm not here to worry, or coddle. I have a job to do, and so do you. When we get home we can discuss things."

Jack simply nodded. He wasn't blindsided by his fathers unfeeling attitude, he expected it. He felt relieved too, that the man wasn't pretending to care, or worry over him. He probably didn't care, and Jack had grown accustomed to being alone, uncared for, from his fathers upbringing and his treatment in China - he didn't know if he could handle his father appearing to be concerned and he was pleased he didn't have to deal with the strain it would place on both of them.

"I have the authority to take you back to America. I have a few discrepancies to take care of which should be cleared up during the few or more days you will need until declared fit to travel. The government of the United States have worked very hard to settle this deal, CTU LA are probably responsible for making it happen. An agent Buchanan is responsible for my presence-"

"Bill?" Jack cut in, unable to stop himself. Whilst he was still uncertain of his fathers motives and the reality of his words, he couldn't help but feel cheered to know that an old friend was fighting his corner.

"Yes. The government sanctioned the proposed deal but would not give leave to any operative working under themselves to go to China. Bill approached me, as I don't work for them they don't have to worry about trivialities such as insurance should I meet some unexpected harm."

Jack said nothing, and never one to cloud the truth Philip continued. "I wasn't interested at first, I assumed you deserved punishment for your wrongdoings which had led you into this position, but he assured me you were being held against your will for a crime you didn't commit. Combined with Kim's devastation at believing you to be hurt, I finally gave in and consented to bring you back." Philip saw Jack's eyes glimmer at the mention of his daughter but he continued on, not having the time or patience to give anymore information on his granddaughter.

"Your friends at CTU have worked very hard to keep the ball rolling," he indicated a file in his hand which Jack hadn't noticed until now, "and so have I. But there is one thing in return China still demand, and according to the terms of the deal, the US have sanctioned that you must give it too them."

Jack felt himself grow cold and still.

"China wants the identity of the undercover operative working against them. They have two suspects, they want to know which specific person has betrayed them. The said agent is already under protection in America and is aware that his cover has been blown. Everything has been done to secure his new identity, but you have to be the one to tell Cheng who it is. That's your ticket home. Don't worry," he added, "these rooms are clear, its part of the negotiation."

"And you believe that, for all you know they are listening to everything."

"They aren't, trust me."

"Trust you!"

"Yes, Jack," Philip said, his voice icy, "if you want to go home, you have to trust me." He paused for a moment, "I know nothing of the identity of the agent you have to give up. I expect you to give me a name when I next visit. Every precaution has been taken to protect this man." He flicked through the file and rested it upon an official document which he held out for Jack to read. He paused as Jack's eyes scanned the page, allowing him to confirm their validity. "Your orders, Jack, in black and white. Give me the name, we both go home. No need to stretch this out any longer than necessary, I have important work to get back to."

Jack stared at Philip, willing the doubt in his mind to disappear. But it wouldn't.

"Why does it have to be me? I've held out for so long, why do I have to give the name, why couldn't it come from Washington, or CTU?"

Philip sighed. "The head of this institute, Mr Cheng has a lot of authority. This is to save face. He needs the information from you, so he can claim a mission accomplished. It protects him."

"I still don't buy it."

"He looks good on paper, you get to be freed. I'd take the offer Jack. I'll be back tomorrow, maybe the day after, and then I'm going home. The deal expires when my private plane takes off. I wont return."

Jack wasn't scared by the threat. "I've explained the situation to you Jack, it's a get out of jail free card, literally! Don't be too stubborn. You're friends have worked hard to save you, don't let it be in vain. I can even give Cheng the information, you don't have to face him again, so don't let this be about pride."

"It's… it's hard," Jack said softly.

Something crossed Phillips face, almost sadness, even compassion. "I understand." He stood to leave, and then reached into his suit jacket, remembering suddenly. "Your friend, Chloe O'Brian? She said it would be a hard sell, she gave me this, to pass on to you."

Jack studied the yellow post it note, her handwriting small and slanted in black ink. He read the information quickly: "I know you'll be mad but you have to give them the information and then you can come home. Don't be too stubborn. Come home, I miss you! See you soon, Chloe OB."

Jack smiled slightly, and nodded his head, allowing Philip to leave, taking the note with him. "So?" His father asked, as he hovered by the door.

Jack nodded his head, "I'll see you tomorrow."


	4. Chapter 4

I've tried to make the chapter longer!!

* * *

When Jack woke, Philip was already at his bedside. He blinked a few times before speaking, despite a slight slur to his words it was clear he was aggravated.

"I'm getting sicker."

Philip smiled. "No, Jack, you're still as sick as you were before, it's just the antibiotics running their course."

"It feels different," he said, before glancing around for the doctor who wasn't there, "they're making me sicker."

The smile was replaced with a frown, and this time, Jack's father's words were sterner and more clipped. "No, Jack, you aren't. Paranoia is expected with what you've been through though."

Jack started to shake his head and Philip cut him off before he could say anything else. "Everything is prepared. I'm going home tomorrow. China needs the information from me early, then we can leave. If you are getting sicker, as you seem to believe," he said in a patronising tone, "I can have a doctor on board the plane."

"The doctors one of them," Jack said, again searching the room for some sign of him.

"No, I brought the man in myself, he is in no way affiliated with the Chinese government."

"Oh."

"I'm leaving now," he said as he got up and stretched his legs, "I have to pack and clearly we wont get anywhere if we try and talk right now. You're too worked up, I hope you are calmer tomorrow. I'm not going to try and pressure you into giving me the information because in your present state of mind you'll probably decide I'm working for China too. I just hope you do the right thing, it will be a lot of wasted time and effort on my part, and you're friends too. "

Jack just stared at him.

"So tomorrow you can give me your decision, and I will relate it to Cheng. He is eager to see how you respond, either way he wins. Please don't think that refusing to help yourself will hurt him, because he will just be allowed to hurt you some more. I'll see you later son."

* * *

Philip left the room and headed through the maze of the prison until he reached the outskirts where the offices were housed. Stopping at the door marked CHENG he entered without knocking. Cheng made no effort to rise from his seat behind the desk, instead he eyed Philip expectantly.

"Well?"

Philip paused for a moment as he glanced around the room. "The drugs are working. He's weakened, slightly disorientated. I think tomorrow will be our day."

Cheng smiled greedily and began to rub his hands together. "I'll ring the doctor, have him increase the level-"

"No. That will not work. His file indicates you used this treatment previously and it didn't work then. It certainly won't now, it will make his suspicious as it is. Hell, he is suspicious, and rightly so. But I think my presence is what will tip him over the edge."

Cheng nodded. "Okay. I suppose I ought to have the air force prepare you're ride back."

"Yes," Philip agreed, "have everything ready. As discussed, I will be taking him home with me."

"If he gives you the information."

Philip nodded. "I know what we agreed to Mr. Cheng. If he doesn't tell me, he stays."

Cheng thumbed the phone. "I hope arranging your transportation home will not arise too much suspicion with my superiors. It would have been easier if you could use your own plane-"

"That would have gathered unwarranted attention from my government. This way is better. Don't worry about it, we both know we're doing the right thing. It just depends on Jack."

* * *

When Philip re-entered the following morning as promised, Jack's wrists were red and scratched, bloody in places. "I hope you didn't think you could get out of them yourself," he said, nodding his head to the cuffs as he sat down, placing his briefcase onto his knees. Jack took in the smell of leather and the suit his father wore and immediately felt insecure.

"Feeling any better?"

Jack wasn't sure how to respond. He felt sluggish, hot and cold at the same time and his thoughts kept moving from one thing to another. He felt no better but wondered whether he should admit that to his father - would he see him as weak? Jack laughed suddenly, surprising Philip as he wondered how the man could not see him as weak - he was a mess; beat up, dressed in rags chained to a hospital bed in China. How could he not seem like a failure now, in his fathers eyes? He had left home for the army at sixteen with a promise to prove his father wrong, now over twenty years later he realised just how far he had fallen.

"I'll take that as a no then," Philip said coldly, an Jack realised once again his thoughts had been meandering from one thing to another. A cell phone chirped and Philip quickly plucked it out from his well tailored suit pocket. Jack watched his father but instead of following the conversation he watched the way the man's forehead creased as he spoke, a frown littering his face, and then the way the light reflected from his phone onto the grey dirty bedding that covered him.

The clasp of the flip phone snapping shut brought Jack's attention back to his father. He was speaking again. "A plane has been prepared to take us home. In order to reach it in time for take off we need to leave here in an hour. They must be scared, they've stood my own plane down. They don't want to lose you. That was CTU," he added, "they've organised this transport for us. We should move soon."

He said nothing else, and simply waited for Jack to speak. Jack was thankful for the silence, he thought about the agent, if he was already undercover, hidden away with a new identity, was he really giving him up? Was he giving his own soul up by selling out? Even if he refused, surely the two agents in question would both be persecuted - he would achieve nothing. He thought back to the note from Chloe, and then imagined her and Bill in his office, searching through satellite imagery for him, trying to help him, to save him. Would his stubbornness prevent him from allowing them to succeed?

Finally, he cleared his voice. He noticed Philip checking the time on his gold Rolex as he did so. "If I give you the name, I can't see any more bad coming, other than what would happen even if I didn't." He found it hard to verbalise his thoughts and his words were spoken clumsily as the pain in his head ached constantly. He watched as Philip nodded, before continuing. "Would you see my giving up the name as, as … weakness?"

Philip looked down for a moment, and Jack found himself willing the eyes to meet his own. Eventually, they did. "No. I see your inability to prevent yourself from ending up in this situation as weakness. But giving me a name, I see it as logical. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain. Nobody else has anything to lose, other than the people who have been hurting you. I think to hold out, and let me leave alone, would be incredibly ill thought out, and would reflect failure and ignorance."

Jack mulled the words over, then shifted against the bed; the clinking of the cuffs seemed intensified by the surrounding silence.

"Hong," Jack whispered, an then a little louder added, "the man they want: Hong."

Philip nodded, "good man," he said, and then picked up his briefcase and stood to leave. "I'll be back in a little while, then we can go home."


	5. Chapter 5

Jack squinted against the bright sun, it wasn't hot but its glare still warmed him. He kept his eyes on the ground as he followed his father, carefully placing one foot before the other, his step hesitant as his legs shook beneath his weight. The sweatpants he wore felt heavy but the tee shirt gave him comfort, it seemed strange to be wearing clean clothes after spending so long in his prison overalls. Guards littered the tarmac around the plane and although unrestrained Jack still felt every part a captive and feared the men were going to grab him before he reached the plane to take him away once more.

At the foot of the stairs Philip stopped sharply to greet somebody. Knowing they were surrounded by Chinese prison officers Jack's curiosity got the better of him and he dared a quick glance; it was the doctor - not a guard as he had feared. Jack watched as his father allowed the man to enter the plane before himself and then his gaze returned to his pump clad feet and the smooth tarmac, he was almost too afraid to look up at the plane, scared that the reality would be cruelly snatched away if he began to believe it. Still, his father was here - he said he was taking him home, and they were ready to leave- this really was real, not a drug induced hallucination or a pain induced nightmare - this was really happening.

His body was still tense, (was it with caution or fear?), as he climbed the metal steps to the aircraft. He reached out to the handrail to help himself up, feeling the steps shift beneath his weight made him cling to the rail tighter with each slow movement he took. Philip turned to check on Jack once reaching the planes interior, he saw his sons slow progress and sighed impatiently until he reached the top. Jack didn't notice, his eyes were still fixed on his footing as he stepped aboard the plane. Only minutes later the plane prepared for take off, Jack gripped his armrests feeling an array of conflicting emotions. Disbelief that he was escaping China gripped at him, fighting the fear that something would go wrong and he would be taken back to his cell.

As the plane soared into the air Jack felt relief flood through him and he wiped his sweaty palms against his trouser leg before glancing around him in the small military plane. Only few people were within distance, the doctor was recognisable, tapping at his laptop. Jack jerked as he felt a tap on his shoulder; and turned to see Philip hand him a tissue. He gratefully dabbed at his forehead with it. When he turned back to thank his father Philips attention was already on his palm pilot. Jack looked out of the window and watched the view, still unable to believe that he was really free from Cheng.

Over an hour through the journey Jack began to tire, his eye lids began to droop and he felt exhausted through the travel he had already endured. Still he fought to stay awake, wanting to watch as the plane touched down on American soil.

Jack stared through the window during the ride back from the air base. He glimpsed at each passing road sign as to confirm he really was in LA. He began to realise the direction in which they were heading and was confused. Philip sat beside him, his attention once more fixed on his palm pilot. Jack didn't want to interrupt his father and cleared his throat, unable to think of anything to say. Finally Philip turned to look at him.

"Yes?"

"Where are we going? It's just, we aren't heading towards CTU, and we missed the turn off that takes you to Division, so I'm not sure…"

"We're going home."

"Home…" Jack's thoughts began tuning again, quickly, images flashed through his mind as though being played back to him on a reel. His last home had been an apartment in DC, from there on he had been homeless until eventually lodging with Diane. Since then he had been contained in a prison cell - one thing Jack was sure of was that he had no home. "Where is that?" Jack asked, not wanting to ask, hating the idea that Philip might see his uncertainty regarding the one certain thing in most peoples lives - their home. "I mean…"

"My house, Jack," Philip said evenly, his voice betraying no emotion, "which is, as of now, you're house also."

"Oh." In an instant Jack was transported back twenty years. He could recall clearly the day he had left home, determined never to reside there ever again, not under his fathers control anyway. And yet, here he was. To say he had lived such an eventful life it was saddening to realise he had ended up exactly where he left off a long time ago with nothing to show for the lost years other than a dead wife, estranged daughter and other failed relationships.

"I thought Division would need me to-"

"They don't need you for anything. At least not yet. Part of the deal was that when we returned they would leave you alone. Seen as they didn't want to take the risk of sending a team in, it didn't seem right that they could interrogate you themselves on your treatment and China's protocols regarding your capture. I'm to contact Mr Buchanan when we get home, he'll initiate your government pension. You're a free man now Jack, from Chinas government and ours."

Jack said nothing and so Philip continued. "I hope you don't mind we had the pension put in place, but it just secures things. I really didn't think you would want to be questioned by Division after they left you there-"

"No, I don't. I'm glad I don't have to go back."

Philip smiled, it almost reached his eyes. "Good."

"We're here." The car had pulled to a stop but Jack hadn't noticed. He climbed out of the car and looked up at the large house his father owned. He knew others were impressed by the luxurious way in which Philip Bauer lived, but as he carefully stepped out onto the neatly pebbled driveway Jack felt his gut tighten and a shiver trail his spine.


End file.
